


Red Thread of Fate

by badtemperblue



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, M/M, Red String of Fate, Slow Burn, Written for Day 5 of Thiam Week 2k17, also tagged teen and up for some language lol, mainly lmao, some supporting morey in the background but only briefly
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-06
Updated: 2017-10-08
Packaged: 2019-01-09 19:40:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12283071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badtemperblue/pseuds/badtemperblue
Summary: “An invisible red thread connects those who are destined to meet, regardless of time, place, or circumstance. The thread may stretch or tangle, but will never break.”- Chinese Proverb





	1. Instalment I - Red Thread of Fate

**Author's Note:**

> HO BOI okay so i have. not. written fic for like at least 2 years, so this was both incredibly fun and incredibly hard to write. I really fell in love with this au concept and i'd really like to dive deeper into this red thread soulmate thing bc I HAVE SO. MANY. IDEAS. 
> 
> Anyway, enjoy. There are some words at the end as well where I answer some questions that might rise

_An ~~invisible~~ red thread connects those destined to meet, regardless of time, place, or circumstances. _  
_The thread may stretch or tangle, but will never break._  
_\- Chinese Proverb_

 

“The thread may stretch or tangle,” Liam read out loud, “but will never break.” He looked over at Mason, who was sitting half a stride away with his back against the wall.  
  
Mason frowned slightly, “I know the quote, dude, we all do. But I don’t know, maybe it’s-”

“It’s what? Wrong? A _lie_ ? Because I gotta tell you, this is the quote that literally ninety percent of the world is living by right now, so if it turns out that-” Liam had to stop and take a breath. It was too much. “‘ _Will never break_ ’, Mason. That’s what it says.”

Mason sighed, clearly frustrated, “Maybe it’s just not always the same, was what I was getting at.”

Liam exited the tab on his laptop and closed the lid. He spun his chair around so that he was facing Mason. Outside, the sun was shining. Their saturday morning hangouts were usually a lot more relaxed than this. They usually involved pancakes. They were fifteen. Things were supposed to be _alright_ .  
  
“I hear you,” Liam said, “but it would be a lot easier to believe that if this wasn’t literally the first time something like this has ever happened. Ever.” He looked down and picked up the string that was tied around his left pinkie. It was a dull, almost greyish, red colour. Faded. Up until yesterday afternoon, it had been glowing - like it was supposed to.

The soulmate system didn’t work like it did in the movies. It wasn’t being colour blind for all your life until you met _your_ person, it wasn’t splatters of colour all over your body, showing up wherever they touched you. It wasn’t feeling their pain, or their emotions, it wasn’t reading their mind. What it _was_ , was a huge, messy, red bundle of thread, connecting people from all over the world. Most towns had their own bundle somewhere close to the centre, connected to the people living nearby. It wasn’t unusual, however, to have a thread that went further away than your local bundle. A lot of people chose to leave their hometown after they’d turned 18, so they could follow their thread and see where it would take them. It was common to have to wait for your soulmate to turn up - most people didn’t find theirs until their mid twenties or early thirties.

What wasn’t common, however, was for someone’s thread to just go slack and fade, like Liam’s had done. Sure, sometimes people died before meeting their soulmate, leaving their significant other with a dark grey thread for the rest of their life - a terrible reminder of their loss and of  what could’ve been. But those threads - dead threads - stayed connected and somewhat strained, still leading somewhere. And they were grey. Liam’s thread- well. It looked like the other person had taken a pair of scissors and just cut their thread off. But that shouldn’t be possible. That _couldn’t_ be possible.

Mason stood up, dusted himself off - Liam’s floor wasn’t the cleanest - and put a careful hand on Liam’s shoulder, “I’m really sorry, dude. But I think the best thing we can do right now is just wait and see what happens.”

Liam straightened his back and let his faded thread fall out of his hand, “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” he pulled a face. “Wanna make pancakes?”

Mason grinned wide, “I mean, does the bear shit in the woods?”

\---

 Two years later, Liam hadn’t exactly _gotten over_ the fact that he’d probably never meet his soulmate and would be _alone forever_ , it still hurt like shit, but he’d somehow come to peace with it, at least a little bit. He’d pulled the slack thread until he’d gotten to the end of it, and sure enough, nothing - no one - had been on the other side. Now he wore it spun around his left pinkie like a ring and tried not to look at it too much. Tried not to wonder where they’d gone or what had happened to them. His person.

Because even though he’d been angry at first, Liam _was_ worried about whoever had been on the other end of his thread. No matter how much he tried to tell himself that he didn’t need them anyway - that he didn’t _want_ them - he couldn’t help but ask himself: what had happened to them that made them feel the need to get rid of their _soulmate_? How bad would life have to be for a person to do that, not only to themselves but to their other half? Or, and it was the sinking feeling of this that kept Liam awake most nights, had they just looked at their thread and gotten the feeling that whoever was on the other end of it wasn’t good enough for them. That Liam wasn’t even worth meeting.

At school, people had looked at him weird the first couple of weeks, but eventually things had settled. It wasn’t like Liam was the most popular of students, hanging out almost exclusively with just Mason and - as of lately, since Mason had found him - Corey Bryant. His parents had been another story completely, fussing over him and immediately starting on all kinds of research to try and ‘ _figure out what has happened and_ why _, this is an outrage, Liam!_ ’ Their words, not his. His mom cried when he showed them. It was messy. 

Eventually though, they’d settled down again, too. Things were almost back to normal, and Liam was really worrying more about his biology grades than the thread around his pinkie, if he was being honest. That’s why, on a _friday night_ , Liam Dunbar was _not_ out partying with his friends(, few as they were), oh no. Liam Dunbar was scooped up in his room, wearing sweatpants and drooling sleepily over his biology textbooks. Living the dream, he was. But it was fine, he just had to stay awake a little bit longer… Just a couple more… Just one more chapt-

 _'SO TELL ME WHAT YOU WANT WHAT YOU REALLY REALLY WANT I’LL TELL YOU WHAT I WANT WHAT I REALLY REALLY WANT I WANNA HE-_ ’

“Mason?” Liam almost wished that someone had been there to see it, because he swore that he’d never moved that quickly before _in his life_. But then again, he was pretty sure that he’d never been that scared before in his life either, so. Stupid, loud ass mobile, “Whasgoinon, dude?”

Mason didn’t even have the decency to sound guilty as he answered, “Sorry, man, did I wake you? Doesn’t matter, okay, listen, Corey and I are down at the movies right, date night, remember?”

Liam opened his mouth to reply, but was cut off by Mason, who seemed to have had one too many sodas, “Anyway, we were about to walk in, and we were like, stopping for a second to, you know- make out, as you do - and, DUDE! You have to get down here! Because there’s this guy- we saw a guy, and he looked kinda weird and like, tragic, but- Okay, no, I can’t tell you this over the phone, bro, just get down here!”

“Mason, I can’t go out tonight, I told you. Gotta study,” Liam rubbed his face with his hand, trying to make sense of the situation. He was too tired for this and he needed a glass of water. He stood up, “I’m hanging up now.”

Mason let out a shout over the phone, “Liam, if you hang up on me I will literally end our friendship. You weren’t studying anyway, you were sleeping, and. Okay, so, I think you soulmate is here.”

Liam stubbed his toe against his desk and gritted his teeth against the pain, “Don’t be silly, I don’t have a soulmate.”

“Wrong. You’ve _lost_ your soulmate. But he’s here, Liam! His thread, it- it looks like yours.”

“If you’re lying to me _I_ will literally end our friendship,” Liam spat out. This was not- he was supposed to be studying.

“I’m not lying, just, please come down here, okay?”

“Fine.”

\--- 

It was raining slightly as he biked into town and, not for the first time, Liam cursed the fact that he didn’t have a driving license. Still, he focused on the feel of cold water hitting his face and tried not to think of cut threads and faded red. It didn’t go so well.

Mason and Corey were waiting underneath the roof of the cinema, and looked up as Liam came to a shrieking halt in front of them. Liam motioned with his hands as if to say, ‘well, I’m here. Now what.’

Mason pointed to their right, where a small diner was located, “He went in there.”

“You guys can go in and watch your movie, if you want,” Liam said as he chained his bike to a nearby bike stand. “I’ll be fine,” he added when Mason opened his mouth to object, “really.”  

 

There was only one person in the diner, Liam quickly discovered when he went inside. The bell over the door gave little chime, but no one showed up behind the counter and the guy sitting in a booth was facing away from him and didn’t show any sign of having heard him come in.

Liam took a deep breath, walked over to the booth and slipped in opposite of the guy. He didn’t dare to look up, and kept his hands on his knees. The guy said nothing, but Liam could feel his eyes boring into his head.

“So, were you just going to sit there in silence, or did you want something?” Liam snatched his head up. The guy was smirking at him, eyes sparkling with amusement. He clasped his hands on the table. On his left pinkie was a short thread, cut about two centimeters long. It was a dull, almost greyish, red colour. Faded.

Liam squeezed his eyes shut. This had been a mistake. “I have to go,” he muttered, and stood up abruptly. “Sorry.”

He headed for the door with hurried strides, but before he could get to it a hand grasped his elbow and pulled him to a halt, “Hey,” and then, “show me your hand.”

Liam turned around, staring up at the face of everything he should’ve had. It felt like a knife was being pressed into his stomach, “No.”

The guy’s eyes were cold and unforgiving, previous amusement long gone, as he grit out again, “ _Show me_ your hand!”

“I don’t even know you!” It was a weak point, but a point nonetheless. The guy pinched the bridge of his nose with his thread-free hand.

“My name’s Theo, I’m nineteen and I like pasta. Now would you _please_ just show me your hand.”

Liam stared at him for a moment before letting his shoulders slump in a sign of forfeit. He lifted his left hand and let the red thread around his pinkie speak for itself. “I’m Liam,” he muttered, staring at the ground. “And it would’ve been real nice if you could’ve at least cut the thread evenly, because it’s been like walking around with a damn pompom for two years. So, thanks, asshole.”

Theo didn’t answer. He gingerly lifted his own hand and touched his fingers to the red thread, like he couldn’t quite believe it was there. It was silent for a couple of moments, both boys not really knowing what to do. Liam was at loss. He’d gotten so used to the thought of living out his life alone, of never getting to know what had happened with his soulmate that now, when Theo was _right there_ , it didn’t even feel real. It felt like a fever dream, and he was just waiting for someone to wake him up.

Theo looked him in the eye, and the fever rose. “I know you’re probably never going to understand why I did this, but please believe me when I say I’m _sorry_ , Liam,” Theo reached out and grabbed his arm when Liam scoffed and rolled his eyes, both of them flinching slightly at the reality of the touch. “No, I mean it. I’m sorry.”

Liam swallowed. The knife in his stomach twisted. “ _An invisible red thread connects those who are destined to meet, regardless of time, place, or circumstance. The thread may stretch or tangle, but will never break,”_ he said, voice shaking slightly. “Will never break, Theo. But you- you broke it.”

“I know,” Theo answered, “I know. But I regretted it, I swear. I didn’t- I had some things happen to me, or, well, I guess some of the things I _made_ happen, but point is I didn’t _know_ how to feel or how to care for other people, so I figured- I thought it was best- That you’d be better off without me, whoever you were. So I cut you off.”

There was a rip in Theo’s jacket, Liam noted as he took in Theo’s words. And a cut on his cheek that looked like it had just started to heal. He looked tired, as if he’d never gotten the chance to sleep in and relax a day in his life. His hair was uncut and hung around his eyes in a way that would’ve been pretty cool if it had been styled like that, and not just because of neglect. Liam’s stomach churned, like when you’re in a rollercoaster and you’ve just reached the top and you’re waiting for the inevitable drop to the ground.

Liam swallowed again. It felt like that was all he knew how to do these days. Chew and swallow. Breathe through the pain. “I’m gonna need some time,” he said, shifting his stare to the dirty diner floor.

Theo nodded. “Yeah, okay.”

They stood in silence for a bit, before Theo opened his mouth to speak again. His voice was strained, like he didn’t really want to speak the words he was saying. “So, should I go, or-”

“No.”

Theo quirked an eyebrow at him. “No?”

“Stay,” Liam smiled slightly, “I’m gonna need some time, but I don’t see why we can’t spend that time together. I heard somewhere that we’re supposed to be meant for each other. Let’s- let’s eat something, or whatever.”

Theo almost laughed. “I don’t think there’s anyone here that can serve us, dude. I’ve been here for like two and a half hours and I haven’t seen a soul.”

For a second, Liam considered leaving the diner anyway. He thought about his biology books that were still open on his bed at home, about his parents who were probably about to get home from work any minute now and about Mason and Corey who undoubtedly were chewing their nails off in anticipation. But then he looked down at the bundle of thread around his left pinkie. He sighed. “Let’s just sit and talk, then.”

\---

They sat back down in the booth Theo had been in when Liam came in. Theo had located some takeaway cups and a water cooler, and put them down on the table in front of them before sitting down again. He glanced at Liam and looked like he was about to say something, but held himself back at the last moment.

Liam rolled his eyes. “What?”

“Nothing,” Theo answered, frowning. “It’s just… How did you find me, anyway?”

Liam snorted. “My friend saw your thread. It’s not exactly common to have your thread cut, you know.”

“Right.”

“Can I ask you something, too?” Liam had to know, it had been driving him crazy over the past two years.

“If you have to, yeah, I guess.”

He was so friendly, this guy. Liam was starting to wonder why faith had wanted them to end up together in the first place. “How did you do it?”

Theo smirked. “I used scissors.”

Liam reached over the table to smack Theo’s arm. “Be serious, dude. I’ve been thinking about this.”

“And you didn’t think to try and cut some of your own thread to see if it could be done? I’m telling you, I used scissors.” Theo eyed him with a look like he was wondering if he might be a bit stupid.

Liam blushed deep red. “I didn’t think that was possible.”

“Jesus christ, my soulmate’s an idiot.”

They looked at each other, and for a couple of moments all you could hear was the hum from the empty diner kitchen. Theo was smiling again, and Liam couldn’t help but grin back, even though he was still both upset and a bit embarrassed. It should probably have felt weird, sitting in a booth with the dude who quite literally decided to cut you out of his life, but it didn’t. Somehow, it felt right- it felt like coming home. Or like when you take your favorite hoodie out of the dryer and it’s still warm and smells all clean. It was good, and the knife that had been edged in Liam’s stomach was slowly coming out. It was gonna take some time, but. “I think I’m gonna love you, someday.”

Theo blinked, and for a second Liam was terrified, at the top of the rollercoaster again. But then Theo smiled, like before, and he kept smiling. “Our story is gonna be such a major fuck you to faith.”

  
An invisible red thread connects those who are destined to meet, regardless of time, place, or circumstance. The thread may stretch or tangle, and sometimes it may even break. But none of that matters, not really. Because two people who are meant to be together and who want to be together will find each other anyway, even without faith stepping in to show the way. And they will fight to fix what’s been broken.


	2. Instalment II - The Road to Rome

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We get a first look at Theo's journey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BEFORE YOU READ THIS!  
> I would like to first of all thank everyone for the lovely response I got to the first part of this. You all inspired me to keep going, so thank you for that. 
> 
> Second of all, this is a bit of a filler chapter. I needed to write down some of Theo's past and what's been going on with him before even thinking about moving on with any bigger things happening between him and Liam. Theo deserves to be understood and Liam and him aren't going to get anywhere in a rush. So while this chapter might be kind of boring to read (SORRY), I now have some kind of purpose with this story and to keep myself going I'm gonna have to do this right. SO HERE HAVE SOME THEO ANGST

Red Thread of Fate

Instalment II

The Road to Rome

 

_“All roads lead to Rome.”_

\- proverb

 

_In 2015, the red thread that was supposed to lead Liam Dunbar to the person chosen for him by fate faded and fell to the floor. And with the loss of the constant tugging on his left pinkie, he stumbled._

  _Looking back on the two years that came after, Liam can’t really remember much. He had been so set on not caring about the empty white at the other end of his thread that he’d almost forgotten how to feel at all, forcing his body into a numb haze of lacrosse practice, homework and video games. Giving up had not been an option, and so his ongoing mantra of_ this is fine this is fine this is fine _makes up most of his memories from that period of his life._

  _He hadn’t known it then, but miles away, driving down the road in a dark blue car and with his heart like a rabbit's in his chest, was a boy with a similar mantra in his head. And, thread or no thread, he was making his way towards Liam. Slowly but surely._

 

In 2015, the only two remaining members of the group of scientists that called themselves _the Dread Doctors_ had finally caught scent of Theo Raeken after nearly a decade of him managing to stay under their radar. Most of the Dread Doctors had been killed or imprisoned by an opposing group of radicals, a lot of them through information that Theo himself had let slip while he was under capture. The pair of scissors that he’d used to cut his own red thread of faith had been hastily bought at the nearest gas station, only half an hour after laying eyes on the white pair of gloves that had been left in a silent threat on the hood of his car. He’d been seventeen, and as he watched the end of the thread that was no longer connected to his left pinkie spring back into nothingness, he didn’t think much of it.

Theo had always kind of figured that soulmates weren’t really meant for people like him. That soulmates were for people that were good. For people that were kind. His stomach lurched suddenly at the thought of whoever was at the other end of that thread, but the feeling was soon gone. Whoever they were, Theo had just done them a favor. He’d started his car again and driven off into months of sleeping in parking lots and hiding deep in the woods, until finally-

 

-in 2016,  they caught up with him. The Dread Doctors wore white robes, latex gloves and tall, dark green rubber boots. Theo hadn’t been fooled by their clean exterior that time though, not like the first time he’d run into them. He knew, at that point, what they were really capable of.

And maybe that’s why he didn’t really care at all when he drove the very same pair of scissors that he’d bought only a year earlier into the exposed throat of one of the two men. It was kill or be killed, Theo figured as he pressed hard with his hands until the other one stilled beneath him. The faded red around his left pinkie almost looked right again, against the pale white of the man’s neck.

 Theo had known that if he hadn’t killed them first, he’d be the one on the floor growing colder by the minute. But that didn’t stop the sinking feeling in his stomach as he watched the two men’s connected threads fade to grey. _Of course_ , Theo thought. _Even they had been allowed what he’d never get to have._

  
Even after the death of the final Dread Doctors, the ghosts of his past were persistent enough to keep him on the run for the remaining part of 2016 and nearly all of 2017. He spent his time driving from state to state, changing identity almost as regularly as he washed his clothes. Everything he owned could fit into the trunk of his car. It wasn’t until one morning-

 

-mid September, when the leaves on the trees had started to shift from summer green to the burning bright yellow of Theo’s favorite season, that he’d felt something within him fall into place.

 Autumn had always been something extraordinary in Theo’s eyes, beautiful in a way that could only be understood by someone who’d lived life the same way he had - held back, hidden, always with a dulling ache growing in his bones. Not quite _there_ enough to be a bother but still, undoubtedly, enough for him to notice. Discreet, but unpleasant, in the way that your own breathing is: second nature, when you don’t pay attention to it. Hell, when you do.

But he’d never grow tired of watching the trees explode with colour, or of getting out of his car in the middle of the woods just to _breathe._ When everything else was distant, the smell of autumn in the air was always right there, intense enough to get through even to Theo. The cold air bit his reddening cheeks and it didn’t even matter that he didn’t have anyone to share it with because at least he was _alive_. And for those fleeting moments he could feel. For just a minute, Theo was a real boy.

 He drove into Beacon Hills on the 20th of September. It was a friday, but the town was quiet still. Only a handful of people roamed the streets - couples, most of them, moving together in a way that told Theo straight away that they were threaders. Normal people didn’t fit together like puzzle pieces like that.

 His stomach was growling, so he parked across the street from a dimly lit diner and a cinema that proudly showcased the premiere of _Teen Wolf [Coming Soon - 2017]_.

 This, he figured, would have to do.

 The bell above the door gave a little chime, and then, suddenly-

  
-2018 came around with a feeling of being absolutely _content_ that Theo wasn’t at all used to. He’d gotten a job in November, at a coffee shop near the town library, which. It was called _The Meeting Place_ , and was constantly visited by stray out of towners who’d come to look for their threaders. Theo wasn’t the biggest fan of that part of the job, but it was only a block away from the area designated for the town’s bundle, so Theo supposed he should’ve known what he was getting into when he applied.

 Anyway, he’d magically managed to keep his job all through December, slowly getting to know the regulars and messing up fewer and fewer coffee orders with each passing day. He was even starting to bring in some tips - _how_ and _why_ , he had no idea.

 His manager, a grumpy, older guy called Derek, was. Well. He was grumpy. Silent. Theo couldn’t quite wrap his head around him. But he was fair, and took on as many shifts as he handed out. The fact that he didn’t say a lot or seemed to care about the personal lives of, well, _anyone_ , was something that Theo was kind of thankful for. Their conversation regarding Theo’s thread had gone swiftly by, with Theo being the one to initiate it.

 “Look,” Derek had exhaled. “I don’t really give a damn about what you have or haven’t had happen to you. So, there. Just, like. Wear a pair of gloves, or whatever.”

 And that had been that. Theo had come in the next day with a new pair of thin, black gloves that left the tips of his fingers exposed and they hadn’t mentioned it since. He suspected that Derek had spoken to the other employees about it though, because he could practically _smell_ the curiosity rolling off of Danny, one of the people he regularly had shifts with, in waves, yet he didn’t say a word.

 Which was nice, because he really, really liked Danny. He was calm and sure of himself in a way that Theo could never be, and he always slipped Theo whatever was left of their pastries at the end of the day. They had to be thrown out anyway, but it was a nice gesture.

 Apart from Danny, Theo didn’t really pay much attention to the rest of his co-workers. If he was being honest, Danny had mainly gotten his attention due to the pastry thing. Small talk was about as much Theo’s forte as it was Derek’s, but he did like it at the coffee shop. For the first time in his life he felt like he had a safe place other than his car. The promise of free warmth and a roof over his head whenever he picked up a shift was thrilling, and while the idea of having friends was absurd, he could feel it happening.

 Derek and Danny were slowly becoming a constant in his life, as well as Mason Hewitt, who came in every thursday afternoon - often accompanied by his threader, Corey Bryant. They were a bit weary of him, he could tell, but they tried their best to hide it, so Theo didn’t complain. Sometimes they brought Liam with them, and the four of them would chat and make jokes and Theo could pretend like everything was fine. Like he really was one of them. Like he hadn’t just shown up a couple weeks ago, out of nowhere.

Things between Liam and him had quickly gone from alright, to a bit awkward, whirled past bad and landed on _terrible_. What had started out as something kind of okay, that one night in the diner, had escalated the second they had started to get to know each other better and had figured out that they were, in no way, compatible. Liam was as stubborn as Theo was proud, their brawls were petty and frequent, and neither of them seemed to be able to let anything go, ever. Theo was starting to second guess his comment about how their story was going to be such a major fuck you to faith, because it was really starting to feel more like faith was a major fuck you to the two of them.

 Luckily, Liam being stubborn and Theo being proud also meant that neither of them wanted to be the first one to give up. Which was why, when 2018 rolled in, Liam was still right next to him, in spite of it all.

 They’d even spent New Years together, with Liam managing to get out of celebrating at home with his family in order to go with Theo to a small get together at a flat that belonged to one of the regulars from the coffee shop.

 

 Stiles Stilinski came in twice every day, ordering a tall cup of plain black coffee - no milk, no sugar - on his way to work, and two lattes with one pump of cinnamon syrup on his way home - one for himself and one for his roommate.

 “Who the fuck puts cinnamon syrup in a latte?” Was pretty much the first thing Theo ever said to Stiles, thus unknowingly opening the door to one of the simultaneously both best and worst friendships of his life. 

 “You haven’t lived,” Stiles had answered, “and you won’t get it until you try it. So I’m gonna make you a _deal_ , my pal. I’m gonna buy you a Stilinski Latte, shut up, Danny, that’s totally what they’re called- shut up, and _you_ ’re gonna tell me what the fuck is up with your thread.”

 "I’ll take that deal,” Theo snorted, causing Danny to almost scold his hand under the stream of hot water coming from the coffee machine. Stiles paid, and Theo passed his order on for Danny to make.

 It only took one sip for him to make up his mind. “This is disgusting.”

 Stiles dropped his jaw and pressed a hand to his chest. “How dare you?! That’s my baby you’re talking about!”

 Theo shrugged. “Your baby tastes like crap.”

 “Whatever, dude. You obviously have no taste,” Stiles sniffled. “Okay, your turn. Pay up, bitch.”

 “Please refrain from calling me ‘bitch’ in the future.”

 “What happened to your thread?”

 Theo tilted his head slightly. “I cut it off.”

 Stiles and Danny stopped dead in their tracks. “You- what? That’s impossible. Why?” Danny gaped at him.

 “I didn’t say I’d tell you why, that wasn’t part of the deal. I only said I’d tell you what happened, and I did. So, shut your mouths. Say hi to your roomie from us, Stiles.”

It was a bit weird that that was how their friendship had started, Theo pondered. Stiles was like a bad case of hayfever, once you’d caught him it was near impossible to get rid of him. Stiles had taken that first conversation as an invitation to keep talking whenever he came in and Theo was on shift, and now, at the beginning of-

 

-February, 2018, Theo was getting ready to sign a lease and move in at the flat they’d been in on New Years. He’d managed to find another job, at a local club this time, and on one particularly cold January afternoon, Stiles had come up to him at the end of his shift, a smile on his face and a, “Hey, Theo! Come hang out with me and Scott for a bit today, will ya?”

 Theo liked Stiles, despite his antics, and Scott Mccall was one of the friendliest people he’d ever met - still soft and forgiving in all the places where Theo had learned to harden. So he’d smiled back, hung his apron on a hook and followed Stiles home.

 They were a funny pair, Scott and Stiles. Best friends since kindergarten and having met not because their threads were connected to each other, but because they both wore them on their right thumbs. It was a silly reason to become friends, but Theo didn’t have it in him to tease them over it: they made sense. They shared enough humour that Stiles didn’t drive Scott completely mad, and Scott was sensible enough to keep up with and contain some of Stiles’ crazier ideas. Like the fact that he was somehow convinced that Lydia Martin from ABC news’ weather forecast was his soulmate.

 And Stiles had been there when Scott’s thread turned to grey. Somehow, he’d manage to pull his best friend through, and Theo had to give him credit for that.

 There was also the fact that they’d opened their home to him. Theo didn’t really have a choice in loving them.

It was weird, waking up every day in a real bed and with a feeling of calm in his stomach that he didn’t think he’d ever get used to. Happiness was a crazy drug, and now that Theo had tasted it he didn’t ever want to let it go.

He had a place to live, two jobs that made sure he could both A. pay his part of the rent and B. buy enough pasta that he could eat it every day of the week, had he wanted to. He had friends that weren’t terrible, and a Liam that was busy with school but had actually started to hang out more at the coffee shop, usually sitting in a corner with his text books. Every so often he’d look up and half glare, half smile at Theo, and Theo would roll his eyes at him.

Sometimes he even stopped by at the flat, leaving Theo with a new kind of sinking feeling in his stomach as he watched the younger boy sit at the kitchen table and complain loudly about whatever was getting on his nerves that day.

 He may have chosen the most crooked and difficult road he could find, but it was true what they said. All roads did lead to Rome. Theo could finally see it, a bright light at the horizon. And, he thought, as he stepped into the kitchen and took it all in - Scott’s usual half hearted morning grunt, the sun shining in through the windows and reflecting off of the dishes in the sink, light snores that could be heard from down the hall and on one of the kitchen chairs, a familiar hoodie left behind in a hurry: 

It was really fucking beautiful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to keep track of my writing progress and maybe get some snippets before I post another part, you can check out my tumblr @fallvevo, where i'm posting things related to this fic under #red thread of faith.

**Author's Note:**

> but yeah, this is a non supernatural au, Liam p much only knows Mason and Corey bc i couldnt be bothered to include the others bc im LAZY (there's something id wanna do if i wrote other works in the same universe). 
> 
> Theo has been going through p much the same as in the tv show except without the supernatural aspect - i might write an addition to this fic and go deeper into that so this all makes a bit more sense. 
> 
> But yeah, I dont wanna say too much bc if people want to (TELL ME) i might be writing a part 2 of this with like thiam actually u know. first kiss and shit 
> 
> peace out homebois  
> oh and come talk to me on tumblr @fallvevo


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